


Lean On Me

by Wallfloweralways



Series: Robron Storyline Rewrite [1]
Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gordon Era 2016, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Self-Harm, kinda slow burn?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-15
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23156617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wallfloweralways/pseuds/Wallfloweralways
Summary: Taking place around the return of Gordon in 2016, with a little more Robron and a lot more of Robert’s POV. A lot of them establishing a relationship, handling Rob’s feelings and dealing with Aaron’s PTSD. The long, vastly uncovered, road back to together and happy.“It's a very long minute before Aaron says anything and when he does, it's the most Aaron thing he's ever said: "Yeah, yeah alright then. I can do second chances."Robert can't help but grin.”
Relationships: Aaron Dingle/Robert Sugden
Series: Robron Storyline Rewrite [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664563
Comments: 6
Kudos: 30





	Lean On Me

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first multi-chaptered fic I’ve ever set out to write so I don’t know how the updates are gonna go but I have a lot written, we’ll see.  
> Constructive criticism is always welcome, and comments as a whole are great!  
> Enjoy :)
> 
> For context: I probably won’t rewrite scenes that were aired and fit with my narrative, so I may reference events from the show as the canonically happened.

Picks up after the 21st of January 2016 (aka Aaron telling Robert about Gordon) when Aaron falls asleep on the sofa.

  
**“I promise, you’re not on your own. Not anymore.”**

He felt sick. Not the type of sick you feel in your stomach - not airplane-landing, bad-chinese, drank-too-much sick - but the type you feel in your chest. Consuming. He's-hurting-and-I-can't-help-it sick. Aaron lay, still as a stone, on the tiny couch in front of him, but Roberts mind was racing too fast to sleep; every time he closed his eyes he saw the moments he should have known, saw the ways he could have stopped a bit of the pain. It makes his stomach wrench thinking about the way he'd treated the man throughout the affair. All the secrets - how many times had Aaron said he couldn't do the secrets? - and the shame, the hiding. _Got to clean the sheets before Chrissie comes home, got to leave before Chrissie sees._ What memories had that brought back? He tried not to imagine a young Aaron, chucking out his wet underwear thinking the exact same thing. And then there were the scars...  
He let out a hiss through his teeth as the words flooded in, consumed by the massacre of memories he'd treasured. Those moments with Aaron - his moments of clarity - what had they meant for his lover?

Lying flat beneath his jacket, back against the cold floor, it wasn’t long before a night had passed, every moment of which he'd attended conscious. The light from outside broke in a long column across the floor, wrapping up the side of the make shift bed and across Aaron's face. In it, his clouded blue eyes flew open.

"Shit. Christ, I-" The man struggled with himself for a moment before he managed to throw off the blanket and get upright. Dazed and confused, he took half a step before Robert had hands on his shoulders keeping him from toppling.  
"Wow, Aaron wait."

"Don't touch me."

"Sorry." He lets go quickly. "Sorry... Just- go slowly yeah. You were half dead yesterday."

Aaron's hard eyes relaxed, snapping open and closed like the shutters on a focusing lens.  
"Yeah, okay." He slowly lowered back down to the sofa, leaving Robert standing alone in front of him.

 _He didn't sleep by the looks of him_ , Aaron thought, _look what you've done_. Not that he himself doesn't look twice as bad - still pale, clammy, knackered - but his body was weak and heavy; sleep came quickly and settled into him like lead, fitful but dark, lingering still. He'd left Robert alone with it: the truth. "Sorry."

"What for?"

"All of it." He whispered. "Or I dunno, putting all this on you. You look dead Rob."

"Speak for yourself." A moment of silence passed while the blonde made his way to the end of the couch, to perch on the armrest. A moment of anger and sadness flickered quietly over his face. As always, Robert Sugden kept his emotions behind a wall, letting only glimpses pass over. “Where you going in such a rush anyway?”

Aaron winced, sleep’s claim over him fading fast, and shrugged, not wanting to relive the events of the dream leaving him slowly. He didn’t have to make too much of a show because Robert was quickly distracted by a buzz, pursuing it, he dug his phone out from his back pocket and flicked it on. 36%, a text from Vic: 

**_Where are u? R u with Aaron? Chas’ worried Rob. X_ **

“Shit.” He moaned. “Shoulda made a better excuse, now they’re on me for your whereabouts.”

He gestured the phone to Aaron, read it over and typed out a short response, before backspacing the lot and shutting it off. The younger man stayed quiet, watching the frustrated routine play out and shutting his eyes, “Sorry. Shouldn’t have said anything, you don’t have to stay.”

"You need to stop doing that. Im glad ya told me, it's what I'm here for."

Aaron scoffed. "Yeah that's the part I don't get."

"What?"

"Why you're still here."

"Do you not want me to be?" Robert asked, but got only a noncommittal shrug in response, so didn't move. “I think we should go back to the hospital. You aren’t exactly looking better.”

Again, a shrug and more silence. The phone buzzed again:

_**I can see you’ve read them Robert, call me X** _

"I guess I don't want to hurt ya." Their eyes met, steel against amber. "And I don't want ya to look at me the way you are now, like I'm some hurt kid you gotta look after. For a minute I thought maybe we- but it’s different now.”

"Aaron I want to be there for you, but it doesn't mean I see you any different. I still-" A few breathes, a moment of collection. "I'm not sure what I'm allowed to want, under the circumstances."

"Anythin' you did before. I'm not fragile-"

"Yeah, I know. But I think about all the things I did, what I said - Chrissie, the affair, hiding - what all that meant to you... and I don't ever want to do it again. I don't want to hurt you either."

They’re looking at each other like kids in at a crime scene, eyes wide and shiny. Between them, an unspoken question lingered: _what are we doing?_ If Robert were braver he’d push on, he’d tell him exactly what he wanted, but Aaron had already heard him say ‘I love you’ once that night and this wasn’t a conversation for right now; they had to get out of that room, back to a hospital, Robert had to do something about Gordon. Then he could think about his own feelings again. Aaron said nothing when the phone buzzed again, and then began to ring.

“Look Rob, I’m glad you’re there for him, really I am, but Chas is out of her mind. Why don’t he just come home? What’s this about?”

Aaron watched Roberts shadow pass back and forth from wall to wall through lead-lidded eyes, watched him worry the zip of his jacket until he was sure it might come off. Part of him still felt on fire with guilt, but what could he do? Robert made it clear he wasn’t leaving. And eluded to a few more things...  
It was odd how much that had lifted from him immediately. That even as he sat, knowing he would either have to go back to the hospital or resolve to dying there, he felt maybe there was something worth it waiting for him; he’d told someone - actually said it _out loud_ \- and the world hadn’t ceased to exist. In fact, he’d been believed. And further still, he was wanted. 

“Look, Vic I’m sorry but it’s up to him if he wants to speak to her. I’m not getting involved.”

Vic’s voice sounded strange and hostile over the phone. _“Involved? Robert your the only one he’s gone to! Course you’re bloody involved. Are you with ‘im now?”_

Robert shifted in the light and turned to face him, expression questioning, and Aaron shook his head. Better if they think it was a one night stand, better they think he was gone.

“No, he left this morning.”

“ _Robert! His family is worried sick and you just sleep with him and get rid? What’s wrong with you? You’d think you’d look out for him, after being so hung up-_ ”

“Vic-”

“ _No. You know what? Save it for someone who indulges your stupid, self loathing bullshit. Don’t want to be happy? Fine, but you should tell his family what’s going on._ ”

Aaron heard the blood in his ears rushing like the ocean, his body - cold and heavy - filling with anger as Robert lowered the phone. Even still, the older man schooled his face, as though he’d heard it all before. And the thing which worried him, truly worried him, was that he had; that no one had ever held Robert Sugden close and told him it was okay to be scared, that it wasn’t his fault he disliked himself. _Like he did for me_ , Aaron thought.

“I’m sorry.”

“Aaron, I already told you, I’m glad yo-”

“Not about that. I mean,” Aaron looked down, “I am sorry you got dragged into this but uh... Im sorry I didn’t think enough about what you were going through.”

Robert made a few hesitant steps towards the sofa, brows knotting into a frown. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“When you were in the closet, I- I forget sometimes that your charm doesn’t run that deep.”

“Vic’s dramatic, I’m fine. I’ve accepted it. And anyway, this isn’t about me.”

Aaron shook his head sadly and looked up into the blondes concerned eyes. “No, you haven’t. But that’s okay I mean, I’m sorry I haven’t always said that but it is okay that you don’t like it about yourself-”

“That’s not what I don’t like.”

Robert looked much colder and tireder all of a sudden, the confession ringing bitter in the hollow room. Aaron had thought it before but never so strongly, that there was a trip wire somewhere deep in the man’s eyes he was guarding with his life, with every smirk and one-liner. In some ways, it made them very similar, both men an overwhelming-percent fodder for a bomb in a sheltered place. Only, where Aaron removed himself from view, Robert held the trigger in plain sight: the man who smiles widest at those who hate him, silently agrees. 

“You’re not a bad person, Rob.”

They sat in silence for a moment. Roberts face didn’t change much, but the small shift was enough to tell the younger man he’d hit something. He waited for the joke or the backtracking but instead what came was quiet and pleading: “Can I take you to the hospital now?”

“Yeah, yeah alright.”

* * *

Aaron felt the heat of guilt settle over him as the nurse smiled, they’d cleared his room but another was ready soon enough. She was kind and understanding, didn’t ask weird questions, didn’t stare at his scars or hesitate to help him, but he couldn’t stand it. He couldn’t stand the feathery touches, the sympathy, so he kept his eyes on the ground, kept his jaw welded shut, till she was done rewrapping his arm and filling his chart. When, finally, she made to leave.

“Uh, do you know if Rob’s still here?” He asked in a small voice. “Blonde guy I came in with.”

She smiled kindly, “I’ll tell him you’d like to see him shall I?” 

Aaron nodded.

He’d never liked hospitals. Never liked the cold, sanitary kindness of people numbed by the streams of patients coming in and out constantly; he supposed most of them wanted to help, that beneath the detachment were men and women who went home and had lives, but he’d walked through too many of these places to not just see them as doctors, doctors who want you fixed and gone. But Aaron was not fixed, he’d never been fixed. They would patch up the wounds, recommend a councillor and send him off, only to see him back the next time, more marked, the old lines growing silver.   
At some point between the nurse leaving and Robert arriving, Aaron had fallen asleep, because the next thing he knew he was looking at the shadow of the older man curled obscenely in an effort to fit into the little blue chair. His outline shifted lightly, rising and falling in a way which suggested he was somewhat asleep. For a moment, Aaron considered letting him, but then he remembered how quiet rooms made him feel.

“Rob.” He whispered into the cold air. Nothing. “Rob!”

The shadow jumped and hastily unfurled like a cat, shiny, blinking eyes in the darkness. It took a moment before he responded, voice croaking, “Aaron.”

His eyes were brimmed with water. _Crying, why was he crying?_ Something glimmered in them, behind the trip wire, half strung, something that looked a little like regret and stung a little like sympathy. Something had happened, Aaron could tell. “Robert, what is it?”

“I saw your dad-”

“Gordon.”

Robert winced. “Yeah. I uh... I went to the pub. I confronted him.” He looked a little guilty, and Aaron wondered if it was simply for that or if it were something a little more complicated. Either way, he felt nervous. That someone else had looked at Gordon in the eyes, and seen what he did for even a second, it made him itch. Itch on the inside, on the walls of his chest.

“What did he say?” Aaron’s face was pale, paler than it had been when his arm was gaping open, and Robert made the call in his mind; the doubt ran through him, not real anymore, but a regretful whisper running a victory lap. _How could he have doubted?_

“I know he’s lying Aaron, that’s what he was always gonna do.” His voice was defensive and frightened, desperately trying to convey to Aaron what had happened. And yes, now his head was clear, he believed it. Gordon was going to lie, of course he was, and if he was good enough to convince everyone up until now, he’d be good enough to lie to Robert’s face. _How could he even have doubted for a second..._

“He told you I was lying.” It was obvious, but Aaron’s voice trembled awfully. Robert tried to keep his voice level as the shorter man crumbled a little further into himself, so small in the bed. He tried to move as slowly as possible to hug the other man, tried not to squeeze too tight once he had him. It was awkward with him sitting like this, but there was nothing else to do but let him cling on, to gather him into his arms and whisper into his hair, “I believe ya, I’ll always believe you Aaron.”


End file.
